


Crow

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-25
Updated: 2006-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Archer and Reed muse about the Vulcans. (07/01/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers: Breaking the Ice  


* * *

After the comet ...

***

Mess Hall, later that night ...

He passed T'Pol on the way to get a bite to eat, nodding to her as he moved past. She was tense looking actually and he wondered what could be bothering her. The idea of Vulcans being without emotions didn't ring true to him as he had seen clouds pass over her face on more than one occasion. Entering, he noticed Trip Tucker sitting at a table eating pie. Nodding, he got a sandwich and tea, moving to sit down with him. 

"Hi," Trip said, grinning. 

"Hello," Malcolm replied. "You're up late."

"Hungry. Pecan pie is something I can stay up for."

Malcolm sighed and nodded. "I like hot scones and jam."

"Sounds good." He took another bite and sighed. "Good for the soul."

Malcolm nodded. "We're going out shortly. Any last minute advice?"

Trip shrugged. "You're the expert at things that go boom."

Malcolm smiled slightly. "I do love to blow things up. I don't know where it comes from."

"Quiet types ... still water, my grandmother used to say."

Malcolm smiled and sipped his tea. "Your grandmother sounds like a smart woman."

"Sounded. She died when I was a teenager," Trip said. "She could do anything, my grandmother. She was this little sage southern woman who could do anything really well."

"Sounds like my mother," Malcolm replied, chuckling. "What is bothering T'Pol?"

"What do you mean?" Trip asked, glancing up from the quickly disappearing pie on his plate.

"She looked more tense than usual."

Trip shrugged. "I asked her and she didn't bite."

"She's not much for revelation."

"None of them are," Trip replied, finishing his pie. "It would be a dull life, Malcolm, if we never talked to each other in a meaningful way." 

Malcolm smiled and finished his sandwich. "I wasn't aware that you were much for self revelation yourself."

Trip grinned broadly. "The sheer tonnage of me that you don't know would sink your boat."

"If I had one," Malcolm said, rising with his plate and half-finished cup of tea. 

"You ate that fast. Late for a date?" Trip asked, his eyes bright with interest.

Malcolm paused and looked at him, smiling slightly. "You are the inquisitive one aren't you?"

"I'm just a lonely boy who couldn't get arrested tonight," Trip replied chuckling. "Goodnight, Lieutenant."

Malcolm smiled. "Goodnight, Commander."

He put his things in the recycle chute and turned, nodding to the Commander as he walked out into the hallway. Moving to the lift, he entered and called out his floor. The ride was short and the walk shorter. Arriving at his destination, he knocked and waited, nodding at a couple of crew that walked past.

"Enter."

The door opened and he stepped in, smiling as Jonathan turned, laundry in hand. Archer smiled and tossed the underwear back into the drawer.

"Hi."

"Hello," Malcolm said, moving to sit on the bed. Archer's dog got up and walked to where Malcolm sat, licking his hands as Malcolm scratched him. "You look busy."

"Housekeeping. Even a commanding officer has to put his shorts away."

Malcolm smirked, rising and walked to the drawer. He gently pushed Archer aside and straightened up the contents, closing it finally. He turned and looked at Archer, sitting on the bed with his dog. 

"What's wrong?"

Archer looked up, meeting the concerned gaze of his lover.

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

"The expression on your face."

"This expression?" Archer asked, smiling goofily. 

Malcolm laughed out loud, a sound that Jonathan enjoyed hearing. Malcolm crossed his arms and stared at Archer, a look of patience on his face.

"What worry?" Archer repeated, rising and pulling the younger man into an embrace. They kissed, soft and sweet and Malcolm sighed. 

"You have a terrible tendency to misdirect questions that you don't want to answer."

"There's nothing I can say. It's sort of personal," Jonathan said truthfully. He sighed and moved to sit, pulling Malcolm down beside him. "You know what I think of Vulcans."

"That's obvious," Malcolm replied. "I think everyone knows what you think without you saying a word."

Jonathan looked at him with a perturbed expression. "You're very forthright tonight."

"Do you want me to be?" Malcolm asked.

Jonathan kissed him. "Yes." He rose and walked a step or two away, turning with agitation. "I have a problem with them, Malcolm, I know. They piss me off."

"I sorted that out early on," Malcolm said calmly. 

"I know that it's my problem and I have to work on it but it's harder than you can imagine."

Malcolm nodded. Jonathan was silent a moment.

"I hate that they treat us like children. I hate being patronized."

"Is this about T'Pol?" Malcolm asked, moving to sit with his back against the headboard of Archer's bed.

"Yes ... and no," Jonathan said, moving to sit on the bed once more. He reached out and caressed Malcolm's thigh, rubbing it with his hand. "Partly and not ... I don't know. I just know that even when I want to reach out, to understand them, I'm put off by their arrogance."

"Maybe it's just that they're so different. And maybe it could be that we've only really run into older ones, ones that have a century or more on us. Maybe when they look at us they *do* see children."

"I'm a man, Malcolm. I have a lifetime of work behind me. We're doing something important here. This ship, what it means to our future, to our people, I don't take that lightly. This is the culmination of generations of people that longed to be in space."

"Including your father?" Malcolm asked gently.

Jonathan looked at him for a long measured minute and then nodded, sighing. He took Malcolm's hand, squeezing it. Sitting for a moment holding it, he looked at his lover with a steady gaze.

"I'm here for my father and for me and for all the people who never will get here but wish they could. Maybe I'm pissed at the lack of wonder at things that the Vulcans exhibit. Maybe I want to see the greatness out here *my* way and it irritates me to hear them put us down. We are who we are and we've come a long way. They are who they are too. Who are they to always judge us against their standards and find fault?"

"I can't say, Jonathan," Malcolm replied. "I know they do and as long as you feel frustrated with that you're going to be upset. Sometimes you have to let people be who they are and not rail against the wind."

"Probably," he agreed, looking at Malcolm for a moment before moving to stretch out across him, resting his head in Malcolm's lap. Strong hands began to knead his muscles, easing the tension away. "Probably you're right but it doesn't make it easier to take. I wonder how many generations of us have to live and die before we get old enough for them to take us seriously?"

"I don't know. I don't worry about it as much as you. I like what we are and I admire what we've accomplished to get here. Their wars are long gone and their conformity keeps them from having more. If they had undergone what we've survived over the past one hundred years maybe they would have another attitude about things," Malcolm said soothingly.

"Or maybe not," Jonathan countered, his voice sleepy. 

"Maybe," Malcolm replied, grinning. "You just shouldn't put this much energy into what they like or dislike. We are out here to prove them wrong."

"You're good for me. Did I ever tell you that before?"

"Not enough," Malcolm said, smiling. "Come here. Move up."

Jonathan moved up, entwining himself with Malcolm. They lay together quietly, Jonathan's head resting on Malcolm's chest and Malcolm holding Jonathan in his arms. 

"This is nice."

"It is," Malcolm replied with a grin.

"You're going to have to go in a little while."

"I know. We have the pleasure," Malcolm said, kissing the top of Jonathan's head. "Thank you for the chance to go stand on a comet."

"You're welcome."

It was quiet a moment and then Jonathan sighed. "I appreciate being able to talk to you and not worry about it. I think it would be terrible not to have someone to trust like this."

Malcolm smiled. "I know. The burdens of command?"

"Something like that," Jonathan said, smiling slightly. He thought about T'Pol and winced inside. In the quiet of this moment he felt better.

***

Much later ...

He stood in his Ready Room and waited. After a moment the door opened and Malcolm stepped in. It closed behind him and Malcolm turned, stepping into Jonathan's embrace. They held each tightly and then Jonathan looked at him.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Travis is going to be fine after the knee heals."

"So Phlox told me," Jonathan said, kissing Malcolm softly.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan," Malcolm said, moving to sit on a chair nearby.

"Anything can happen in those circumstances. I'm just glad you're both alive."

"I meant ... you had to ask the Vulcan ship to help you out. I know what that means to you."

Jonathan paused and nodded. "That stung but it was like T'Pol said. They expected us not to ask for help and we broke one of their preconceived notions."

"That's good. Not much help in the ego department though," Malcolm probed gently.

Jonathan grinned broadly. "No. Not much help there. By the way, you weren't here to record a message to that fourth grade class in Ireland."

Malcolm smiled and sat back, relaxing. "My loss. How were you?"

"Stunning," Jonathan said with a grin. "You should have been there. I was killer."

Malcolm grinned, rising and pulling Jonathan to his feet. He kissed him softly. "I'll take your word for it."

Jonathan frowned at Malcolm with false hurt. "You don't believe me?"

Malcolm grinned and turned, moving to the door. He paused and looked back. "I believe you."

Jonathan snorted and smiled, staring at Malcolm with affection. "Are you available for some more confessions about 2100?"

Malcolm nodded. "I have to get back to Sick Bay. Follow up check up. But I would love to be your confessor."

"Good. Then you can tell me about the snowman."

Malcolm snorted and shook his head. "Talk to Travis," he said with a grin. He nodded and stepped out, leaving Archer alone.

Jonathan stared at the door for a moment and then sighed, turning to his window once more. Farther away than yesterday, a bright flow of ice and energy filled the view. It would go on tomorrow as it did today, as it probably had for millions of years. No other humans might ever see it but them and for a moment he felt the sense of wonder rise in him again. Sighing with awe, he smiled.

"There it goes, Dad. I'll see it and all of them for you."

With that, he turned and sat down again, immersing himself into the work of Enterprise once more.


End file.
